Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.


Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas James Marx and Umar for their work on this story.


Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.


Recommendations:

Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man.

Harry Potter and The Boy-Who-Lived by The Santi.

Growing Up Black by ElvindorkNigellus.

The Hero and The Veela by JackPotter.

Stepping Back, and Honour Thy Blood by TheBlack'sResurgence.

The Mind Arts by Wu Gang.

A Cadmean Victory by DarknessEnthroned.

Magicks of The Arcane by Eilyfe.


"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.

Parseltongue.

Memories/In Story Text.


Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal

By ACI100.

Year 2: The Looming of Shadows.

Chapter 5: Let's See What You Make of Them!

September 2nd 1992.


September 2nd 1992.

Gryffindor Tower.

5:34 AM.

Harry rose early the day after their arrival at Hogwarts due to mainly excitement at being back at the castle. He hadn't actually slept too badly and felt rather alert despite the hour. Figuring he best take advantage of the ample time remaining before breakfast, Harry quickly showered, got dressed and threw his invisibility cloak over himself, making his way out of the tower and towards his favourite room in Hogwarts. A room that just so happened to be on the same floor as their common room, something he had always found rather convenient.

Harry smiled as his familiar setup greeted him upon entering The Room of Requirement. Taking a seat at his desk, Harry took Dumbledore's own guide to Occlumency from his bag and opened it, flipping to the topic his headmaster had mentioned the day previous.

Supplementary Occlumency and its Applications in Casting.

By clearing your mind, you are simultaneously mastering your emotions. Magic is as much based upon intent as anything else, and the very concept of intent is categorically fuelled by one's emotions. By clearing one's mind of emotions and allowing your mind to rest solely upon the intent in which you will use to drive your spell, the speed of your casting will increase drastically, as will, in most simple cases, the effectiveness and efficiency of the casting. By casting in such a manner, you will actually utilize less magic and garner the same if not greater results.

The exception to this is, of course, both esoteric magic and spells that can be bolstered by one's emotion if they know how to channel them.

'What the hell is esoteric magic?'

He perused the room for quite a time to find the answer, but blessed with the gift to present him with what he wanted, it did not take Harry nearly as long as he had feared it may to find that esoteric magic was magic that hinged solely on emotion. Magic that, if an emotional requirement was not met by the caster, was not likely to work at all.

The only example Harry could think of off the top of his head was the boggart banishing spell he had read about over the summer — Riddikulus. The person had to conjure up an image that would be truly amusing to them in order to cast it, but without the amusement itself, the spell would be utterly ineffective.

'So, for spells of a singular and basic purpose, I should clear my mind when casting.'

It seemed almost too simple to work, but it did. Mind you, Harry still had issues with clearing his mind while still focusing on a singular task at the same time, so this made focusing on the intent of his spell difficult, thereby rendering the method less effective than he knew it would be in a few weeks once he managed to effortlessly multi-task as Dumbledore had promised he would. The result of the lesser intent due to his Occlumency was that at his current stage, the spells lacked their usual punch, though he already noticed that he could cast them much faster.

'Once I work out this multi-tasking thing, this will be very useful.'

In class, he would still cast traditionally until he managed to multi-task efficiently, as he wanted his spells to be as effective as possible, but on his own, this was something to work on for certain.

By the time his experimenting had come to a close, it was already nearing 8:15, and Harry figured it best if he got to The Great Hall and got something to eat. The potions for his nutrition were certainly working, something made evident not just by the fact that he was now taller than at least almost all of the girls in his year and some of the boys as well, but by the fact that he actually had an appetite for three meals a day as opposed to only two like when he had first started taking the potions over a year ago. He still had to take them, and he had been assured the effects were far from finished, but he was grateful for what they had done. It was what gave him the resolve to take a vial out of his bag and down it on his way to breakfast.

When he entered the hall, he quickly spotted his three friends and took the seat they had saved for him. "Do you ever sleep?" Asked Ron, actually sounding serious.

"No," said Harry with a roll of his eyes, "I haven't slept in six years. That's my secret; how I'm so far ahead of you lot."

Ron just shook his head. "With how bloody early you're up, you'd think it's true." He muttered, causing Harry to shake his head in return as the owl post entered the room. To Harry's great surprise, an owl landed in front of him, one that he had not seen before. Curious but cautious after the poisoned tart, he cast a few basic detection spells he had read up on before opening it and reading the letter.

Potter,

Seeing as I can't get to you at Hogwarts, I'm giving you some homework for the first term on top of silent casting.

You'll have the blasting curse mastered non verbally by Christmas. I will be testing you, and you'll complete the following routine each morning:

5 km run

Push-ups to failure

Crunches to failure

Burpees to failure

100m sprints to failure

Squat jumps to failure

Split lunges to failure

Plank to failure.

This is the standard physical routine for a new auror recruit, and Merlin knows you need it.

Don't disappoint me,

Moody.

PS: There are moving diagrams of the exercises on the back of the parchment if you don't know them.

No excuses!

'The blasting curse non verbally by Christmas? Has he gone mental? I can't cast non verbally yet and I haven't even learned that curse!'

"Who's it from?" Asked Ron with some curiosity.

"Moody," grumbled Harry with a sigh, "he's a mad man."

"Bit late to the party on that thought, mate." Said Ron with a smile. "A lot of the auror office says he's crazy. Some even say he should retire."

"He's brilliant," Harry defended him honestly, "but he's mad. The old psycho wants me to master silent casting by Christmas! And to master a spell that's… I don't even know what year in curriculum — above O.W.L's probably."

Ron whistled. "Seems like Merlin will be put to the test." He said with a smirk, relishing at his friend's struggle as it was something he saw so rarely before.

"Laugh it up now," bit back Harry with a smirk of his own, "it won't be so funny when I can curse your pants off without saying a word, will it?"

Ron paled for a moment before they were distracted by the delivering of their time tables. Herbology, History, Charms and Astronomy that night.

"Pretty chill first day," said Dean appreciatively, "I was hoping we'd have Lockhart though. I want to see what he teaches us!"

"Bet he's a fraud." Said Ron darkly out of pure spite.

'So do I Ron, so do I.'

"Hey," voiced the red-head to Harry, "when do you lot start practicing?"

"Practicing?"

"Quidditch!"

"Oh… no clue, ask Oliver. I'm sure he already has it all figured out."

"He can't have even booked the pitch yet, can he?" Neville asked sceptically.

Harry just shot his best mate a dark look. "You haven't spent enough time with him yet, Neville. Never doubt Oliver Wood's supernatural abilities with anything related to Quidditch. It's crazy what an obsession will do for you."

Neville just shrugged. "If you say so. Should we get going? The greenhouses are a bit of a walk."

"You just want to play with the plants before the lesson." Teased Harry, but he obliged his friend nonetheless, standing and pulling his bag over his shoulder as their other two friends mirrored their movements.

Neville wasn't completely making it up, it did take a fair bit of time to reach the greenhouses, though they did arrive early. To his friend's dismay however, the greenhouses were not open and Professor Sprout, at least for the moment, was conspicuous through her absence.

"Weird," noted Neville, "she's hardly ever gone from the greenhouses, even when she's not teaching."

"Still eating maybe?" Voiced Ron as the rest of the class began to close in from behind them.

"I didn't see her in the hall when we left." Dean put in with a frown as the rest of the class now also began to close ranks around the greenhouse, many of them muttering about the same mystery that concerned the Gryffindor quartet.

Just as the bell was about to ring to signal the beginning of the class, the professor came marching around the greenhouse, several pots in her arms and a particularly disgruntled expression on her face. Beside her walked another man, one wearing flowing robes of magenta. When Lockhart saw the gathered students, he frowned, looking apologetic.

"So sorry to keep your professor from you." He told them boisterously, "I was just showing Professor Sprout the most efficient way of fertilizing a whomping willow, you know. Mind you, not that her way was wrong, but I have encountered a great number of them on my travels, and as prodigious as Pomona here may be, the experience I have gained over the years remains invaluable." He wagged a finger at the lot of them almost chastisingly. "Now, don't go around telling everybody that I know more about Herbology than your professor; that would be ridiculous. I just happen to be quite well versed in this particular branch of the subject." Lockhart made a show of glancing down at his watch before smiling at Professor Sprout. "It has been a pleasure working with you, professor, but I really must be going — lessons to plan after all, and I see you have an eager class awaiting you." With a tip of his hat and a bow of his head, Lockhart was off, not noticing the most uncharacteristic scowl that Professor Sprout was giving his retreating form.

'If that doesn't prove that every word of that story was bull, I don't know what does.'

"Right," said Sprout a bit tightly before willing herself to sigh and smile at the lot of them, "greenhouse two today chaps!" This caused a stir among the second years gathered as they followed her towards the aforementioned greenhouse. Up to this point, they had only ever worked in greenhouse one with more tame plant varieties. Greenhouses two and onwards housed the more dangerous stock that was kept by Hogwarts.

"I wonder what we'll be working on?" Mused Neville excitedly, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as they followed the squat professor.

"Don't ask us," Harry told him with an indulgent smile, "you'd have a better idea than the lot of us put together."

When they had all entered the greenhouse and split into groups of four, Professor Sprout began her lecture.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, ladies and gents. I decided a good, high paced Herbology lesson would be just the thing you all needed to get whipped back into shape in a hurry, and I thought you best make yourselves useful at the same time, so you'll be working with some plants that we grow here at Hogwarts each and every year and sell for a very large profit. I have to warn you all though," she said a bit sternly, "though far from lethal at their current stage, these will be the most dangerous plants you have dealt with thus far."

'Well, I don't think she's counting the devil's snare I ran into last June.'

"Now," she said once their excited, if a bit nervous chatter had died down, "can anybody tell me what Mandrakes are used for?"

Four hands hit the air, Harry's, who knew of the plants properties from a potions lecture with Daphne, Neville's, who had probably known for years now, as well as Hermione Granger's and Ernie Macmillon's. Professor Sprout nodded encouragingly at Harry, as though he had managed an O in the subject last year, he rarely volunteered information in the class.

"They have very strong restorative properties and are therefore used mainly in potions with the goal of countering strong effects from a number of situations."

"Very good!" Congratulated Professor Sprout. "Five points to Gryffindor. Now, who can tell me why these plants are so dangerous?"

Two hands rose this time, Hermione's and Neville's, who Sprout indicated to with a kind smile.

"Once fully grown, their cry, which they use as soon as they are uprooted can be fatal."

"On point as ever, Neville, take five more points to Gryffindor." Neville beamed. "Too right. The ones we are working with today are only infants, so their cry will only knock you out for a couple of hours, but it's still best to avoid that if we can." She withdrew her wand and gave it a wave, causing a bucket of large, rather fluffy looking ear muffs to float over towards her. "Your task will be to repot the mandrakes as shown on page 111 of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Do not take off your earmuffs until I give the all clear at the end of the class. We don't need any trips to the hospital wing, least of all on the first day." They all nodded. "Well," she prompted with an eager smile, "get to it!"

It turned out that the Mandrakes did not share any of Professor Sprout's enthusiasm when it came to their repotting; they were clearly not nearly as fond of the idea. It was the first time Harry had ever truly worked with a plant that fought back and if he were being honest, he could say that he had certainly had more enjoyable experiences at the castle, though working with Neville pretty much ensured that he, Ron and Dean made it out of the class unscathed. That was far more than he could say for a large number of the first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs alike.

Though unscathed, Harry found himself rather fatigued by the end of the double period and darkly, he thought that if Moody could see him now, he would be snarling that such weakness was all the more reason for his training regiment.

'Old codger has a point though.'

The only class they had remaining that day was History of Magic, that was, if one discounted that night's Astronomy lesson. Harry, as usual, studied other material in history, knowing he would just read the textbook on his own time and likely still pull off easy O's in the subject.

When the class had finished, Ron sighed the moment they were out the door. "Blimey, that was one of our easy days and I already feel brain dead. We haven't even done Astronomy yet."

"You probably feel brain dead because you just walked out of Binns' class." Pointed out Dean reasonably, prompting Ron to sigh.

"Yeah, suppose you're right. Any of you have plans for the rest of the day?"

Dean and Neville shook their head and Ron looked questioningly at Harry.

"Not really, I was just going to study a bit."

"Can you pass up studying for a day?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I really need to practice Quidditch so I don't look like an idiot when the team starts practicing."

Harry weighed his options for a few moments but in the end, he really did enjoy spending time in the air far too much to pass up the opportunity, especially now, while his brain still felt like mush courtesy of Binns. There was plenty of time to study.

"If you'd like." He said with an indulgent grin, causing Ron to return him a rather enthusiastic variant of his own.

"Brilliant!"

Their time spent in the air had been fairly enjoyable, and Harry found that it had been a rather good tune up for him. As a reserve, Ron would be tasked with filling in for any position that was needed, so they practiced a bit of everything. Harry got to practice alongside and against Ron as a chaser, something that was good seeing as he liked to handle the quaffle quite a bit in games when he could get a way with it. On top of that, he got to try his hand as a beater, something he was thoroughly rubbish at, and as a keeper, a position that he did not envy whatsoever.

By the time the two boys landed back on the pitch with broad grins, Harry found himself both exhausted and elated in equal measure. It had been among the most enjoyable hours he had ever spent in the air.

When the two had showered and finally trekked their way back up to the castle, it was dinner time, and they found both Neville and Dean sitting at the table accompanied by, to Harry's surprise, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

'Odd.'

When Dean saw Harry and Ron, his face took on a look of what almost appeared to be relief.

'Odder still.'

"'Bout time you two decided to grace us with your presence." Snarked Dean, causing Harry to crook an eyebrow as Ron rolled his eyes and responded without missing a beat.

"Well, if we did it too often, you might take our greatness for granted, you know?" The two girls giggled and Neville spat pumpkin juice all over his food, prompting everyone around them to laugh even harder.

"Nice one, mate! Slick as ever!" Said Harry, clapping Neville hard on the back several times before taking a seat beside him, not noticing that Parvati and Lavender had giggled as much at his passing remark as they had Ron's witty one.

"Harry," asked Parvati, causing Harry to look at her curiously, "um, when are you planning to do Binns's essay? I wasn't really paying attention today and could really use some help with it."

Harry peered at her skeptically but answered anyway. "Whenever I feel like it, I guess. I wasn't paying attention either; I'm just going to read the chapter from the textbook and do my essay off of that."

"Oh," said Parvati, looking almost disappointed, "what about Herbology?"

Harry looked at Neville who rolled his eyes. "I'm doing mine tonight." He answered.

"There you go." Harry answered with an abashed smile. He turned his attention onto Dean, who had his timetable out. "What have we got tomorrow?"

"Two double periods; Transfiguration and Defense!" He sounded rather excited and Harry couldn't really blame him. He knew that Dean did not share his scepticism over Lockhart, and Transfiguration was his friend's best subject.

"Should be interesting." He answered diplomatically, to which most around him responded with exasperated stares.

"Interesting?" Spoke up Lavender. "We're going to be taught by one of the bravest and most brilliant men alive and you think it will just be interesting?"

'Well, I've been taught by Dumbledore. I doubt Lockhart will hold a candle to that.' Harry thought, but he did not dare voice that aloud.

"I'm pretty far ahead in those subjects." He said honestly. "I doubt there will be anything brought up that I don't know already."

"Will there be anything brought up this year you don't know already?" Asked Neville, sounding exasperated.

"Probably." Said Harry, not mentioning the fact that if there was, it wasn't going to be in those two subjects. They ate with simple small talk being exchanged until Harry finished his smaller portion of food and asked Neville, "What time are you gonna do that essay?" to which the other boy just scratched his head.

"I dunno, I'm gonna take a bit of a break after dinner and we have to be up until midnight for Astronomy anyways so like — 10?"

"Sounds good." Harry said, standing from the table and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Where are you going Harry?" Lavender asked, but before Harry could answer, three voices, those of Dean, Neville, and Ron answered.

"To practice."

Harry smiled to himself as he left the hall, knowing that soon, he would have to wipe away that amusement in order to clear his mind over and over again until he could effortlessly and efficiently multitask.


September 3rd 1992.

Gryffindor Tower.

5:00 AM.

The next morning, Harry woke up at 5:00 AM on the dot, though this time, it was done consciously, as he wished to get Moody's brutal workout regime out of the way without other students gawking at him in what would likely be his darkest hour. Figuring it would be best to shower after the workout, Harry quickly got dressed and began to walk down to the common room. He found himself more than a little bit surprised when he entered the room to find the fire still burning merrily and a figure sitting in front of him, made evident only by her silhouette. A moment later, Harry recognized the fiery red hair and his body relaxed a bit, knowing that at least now, he wasn't likely to be the center of gossip throughout the school.

"Ginny?" He asked, causing the girl to jump about a foot into the air. Harry winced.

'How did I not realize that was going to scare her?'

"Harry!" She hissed in a quiet voice, seeming more surprised than annoyed. "What are you doing up at this time?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He said, walking closer to her and noticing that something had fallen to the floor when she had jumped. He stooped to grab it but wasn't fast enough. Ginny hastily scrambled to retrieve it for herself. "Still not sleeping well?" He asked, trying to pass over the awkward moment.

"I slept ok," said Ginny, but Harry was let into the lie by the small bags under her eyes, "I just went to bed really early so I woke up early too."

"How was your first day?" Harry asked, choosing to not call Ginny on what seemed to be a fairly harmless bluff.

Ginny's face lit up. "It was great!" She enthused. "Professor Flitwick seems like a brilliant teacher! I'm most looking forward to Charms!"

"He is quite good." Agreed Harry. "You guys won't be casting anything practical for quite a while though.'

Ginny nodded. "I heard." She said, sounding a bit crestfallen.

He smiled at her in an apologetic manner. "If it makes you feel any better, Professor McGonagall had us trying transfigurations right away, so you should at least have that to look forward to." Ginny nodded again and Harry began to turn towards the portrait hole leading out of the common room.

"Where are you off too at this time of day?" Ginny asked him, sounding baffled.

"Library." Lied Harry, not seeing the near imperceptible narrowing of Ginny's eyes as he slid effortlessly through the portrait hole. Once Harry had left, Ginny flipped open her diary and made to write once more but to her surprise, words already awaited her.

Did I say something to upset you? It seems that you're taking more time to answer than is normal for you.

Ginny blushed at the words but wrote back at once, equally as entranced with Riddle and his diary as she had been that first night back at The Burrow.

No, of course not, Tom, don't be silly. I just got distracted by Harry. He said he was going to the library but I know he wasn't. It's like what you described to me — the feeling you used to get when you knew somebody was lying to you.

There was a longer pause than Ginny was typically accustomed to before Riddle's response made itself present.

You are a fast learner, Ginny. That took me much longer to pick up on. Oh, and if you don't mind me asking, who is this Harry you speak of?


September 3rd 1992.

The Great Hall.

8:05 AM.

After a long, extensive shower, Harry strolled into the Great Hall with his body aching and his mind cursing the name of Mad Eye Moody with every colourful invention it could come up with. His friends had, as always, saved him a seat, and he positively slumped into it and had to resist the urge to just fold forwards and let his head rest on the table.

"Tough workout then?" Dean asked, smirking at the clear discomfort Harry was in.

"No," bit back Harry with as much sarcasm as he could muster as he reached for some eggs and toast, "it was clearly a cake walk. Can't you tell?" One side effect of the exercise, or at least he was assuming it was a side effect of the exercise was that most unusually for him, he actually felt rather famished. Sure, he had evolved from the point of not being able to stomach food in the morning to managing some fruit and yogurt, but this morning, Harry was drawing sceptical looks from his three friends at the pile of eggs and three pieces of toast he pulled towards him. "Well, I just burned about a hundred thousand calories." He hyperbolized to the three of them, causing them to just shrug and go back to their own food.

"Lockhart after breakfast!" Enthused Dean. "It's about time we learn something in that class!"

"Bet he's useless." Ron reasserted, stabbing rather viciously at one of his own eggs.

"Can't be if he's done all that." Dean pointed out, but Ron just rolled his eyes, seeming to decide that his eggs were a better expense of his energy than responding to Dean's defense.

After a few minutes of eating, Harry was startled by the clearing of a throat from behind him. He turned, looking into the eyes of a very small, very mousy haired boy, the same boy who had been the first to be sorted into Gryffindor.

"Can I help you?" He asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, not really wanting to give off any vibe at all.

"Y-y-you're Harry P-Potter, aren't you?" Asked the firsty, his eyes roaming almost hungrily across Harry's forehead. Harry sighed, moving his hair aside and exposing the lightning bolt scar that he knew the boy was looking for.

"In the flesh." He said a bit dryly, causing the boy's mouth to fall agape.

"C-c-can I get a photo with you?" He asked, holding up what Harry recognized to be a muggle camera. "I've heard I can get the photos to move with a potion and I'd love to send one back to my dad! I'm Muggleborn, you see. it was such a surprise when I got my letter and I'd love to keep him up to date. My name is Colin Creevy, can I have one picture, just one photo, please?"

"Well, well, well," came a drawling voice that caused Colin to jump. From behind him stepped Malfoy and his ever present goons, Crabbe and Goyle. "Sunk to a new low, have you Potter?" Malfoy let his eyes roam all over the hall before he bellowed loud enough for most to hear. "Look everyone, line up! Harry Potter is giving out signed photos!" The hall's attention was quickly drawn onto the scene and Harry was blushing furiously, having been put in a situation that he was not at all comfortable with.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy!" Spat Ron, drawing his wand and prompting Crabbe and Goyle to do the same, but Ron just scoffed at them. "You two idiots would be better off to punch me. What are you gonna do with those things? News flash idiots, you need a brain to use a wand!" They both snarled but Malfoy cut in once more.

"Weasley wants a signed photo, Potter. It would be worth more than his whole family's house." Ron made to lunge for Malfoy but another voice cut in, one that Harry hadnot been expecting.

"What's going on here?" The voice did not sound upset, on the contrary, it sounded positively jovial, if a bit curious. When he saw Harry, Lockhart's face split into an ear to ear grin. "Ah, Harry Potter, we meet again! Signed photos my dear boy? I would not have guessed you had reached such a level yet. It's always important to know your standing Harry, just remember that. Personally, with no disrespect meant of course, I'm not quite sure you're at that level of stardom yet but alas, if the boy wants one, I suppose you can not truly be at fault." He smiled a perfect smile and practically dragged Harry out of his seat. "You must cater to the public, Harry, it is something I am sure you will learn in dear time." He turned to Colin. "I'll tell you what, dear boy, you can have one of the both of us!" Colin beamed as Malfoy scowled before shooting one last victorious smirk at Harry before leaving with Crabbe and Goyle and Harry was left scheming over how he would best enact his revenge on the blonde haired git.

Soon enough, the meal had concluded and they were off to the class that had been more talked about than any other.

"You better hope Creevy doesn't meet Ginny," said Ron as they neared the door to Lockhart's classroom, "or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up!" Harry snapped at Ron. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase "Harry Potter fanclub"

'Git already seems jealous enough as it is.'

"Besides," he argued, "Ginny hasn't actually been that bad at all."

"She's hid it better than I thought she'd manage." Agreed Ron. "But trust me mate, you have no idea." He allowed his voice to trail off as they reached Lockhart's classroom door. When they opened the door and stepped inside, Harry could have gagged in disgust when his eyes roamed over the room.

Last year, Quirrell had turned this very room into a sort of dark, dingy place that had seemed to have served as a trap for a vampire that Harry was now sure had been a figment of fiction, but aside from that, the room had been fairly nondescript. Now, the room seemed to serve as a personal shrine to its lone occupant, with the beaming, overlarge face of Gilderoy Lockhart smiling down at the lot of them from every nook and cranny of the room.

"Bloody hell," breathed Ron in apparent disbelief, "this bloke is mental!"

"Ah yes, the stragglers." Said the man himself as Harry and his quartet seemed to be the last to enter the room. "If one of you fine gentlemen would be so kind as to close the door." Dean closed the door and they all took seats, prompting the class to fall completely silent though some, notably Parvati, Lavender, Hermione and Dean seemed to be leaning forward as if they were hanging on every word that had not yet been spoken.

Lockhart plucked Hermione's copy of Travelling With Trolls off the top of her pile, since she sat in the front most row of desks and turned it to display his own beaming portrait to the class at large.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking along with the photo, "Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary member of The Dark Force Defense League and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award, but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Banden Banshee by smiling at her." He waited for them to laugh but when none did, he pressed on. "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books! Well done! I thought we would start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how much you've read them, to see how much you've taken in."

Harry's heart immediately sank for two reasons. One was the fact that his worst fears had seemingly been confirmed immediately upon reading the first number of questions, which all pertain to Lockhart's personal entries within the tomes. And two, because Harry hadn't really read the books much at all. Once he had found them to be stories more than textbooks, he had simply skimmed them for the actual defense material, as he had found himself with more important things to do than read stories he was not even entirely sold on.

Half an hour later, Lockhart had collected the quizzes and was rifling through them with a rather disgruntled expression on his face. "Tut, tut, hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year With The Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings With Werewolves more carefully. I clearly state that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non magic peoples, though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey." He gave them another roguish wink, seeming oblivious to the looks of stunned incredulity that marred many of their faces.

'If Moody could see how I was being taught defense, the old codger would have a stroke.'

The only person who seemed to still remain invested in the class was Hermione, who positively swelled when she was praised for her perfect answers by Lockhart, something that caused her to throw a rather smug look back at Harry.

'What's that about?'

"And now to business." He said, snapping most of them out of their stupers as he bent down and retrieved a large, covered cage from beneath his desk and placed it on top of the aforementioned surface. "Now be warned," he cautioned them all, "it is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind. You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you while I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm." In spite of himself, Harry leaned forward for a better look at the cage. Fraud or no fraud, this would already appear to be more than they had done in their entire first year, though when noting the fact that the teacher had been employed by Voldemort, Harry supposed such a fact didn't speak much to Lockhart nor his character.

Lockhart placed a hand on the cover and the class's attention was truly on the man for the first time in several minutes. "I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice, "it might provoke them." As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover. "Yes!" He said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!"

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself and let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart could not mistake as a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well-well, they're not very dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked out.

"Don't be so sure," said Lockhart as he wiggled a finger at Seamus, "devilishly tricky little buggers they can be." Harry found it unlikely that anything electric blue and eight inches high were very dangerous, but he did not comment. "Well, let's see what you make of them." And he ripped open the cage.

'You've got to be joking!'

It was pandemonium.

The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them tried to seize Neville by the ears, but were struck down by two well placed full body bind curses. Seamus Finnigan was evidently not as fast, and he quickly found himself dangling from the chandelier. Several of the creatures shot straight out of the open window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest chose to destroy the classroom with ink bottles and whatever else they could find. Within seconds, the class was in a panic.

"Come now," cried Lockhart, "they're only pixies." One jumped at the man himself and he dove to the side comically.

'Oh for the love of Merlin.' Thought Harry, snapping his wand into his hand with a flick of his wrist.

"Flagrete!"

The fire streamed from the tip of Harry's wand and bathed all nearby pixies not close enough to anyone to put them in danger in its brilliant orange light. Flagrete, a firespell that unlike Incendio could be manipulated more freely was a spell that had been taught to Harry by Moody over the summer and seeing as this was his first time really trying it, he was rather impressed with the results. He had wondered at first as to how he would deal with the pixies who were currently attacking his classmates but as soon as they saw the flames attacking their brethren, they quickly dove out of the open window in retreat.

Within seconds, the pixies were gone and the class was in awed silence, Harry, for his part, simply holstered his wand and stormed out of the class, not even looking back at the scorch marks he had left behind.


September 4th 1992.

The Defense Against The Dark Arts Classroom.

2:16 PM.

"Well," breathed Lockhart, his heart rate speeding up with some nerves as he prepared to open his second cage of Cornish Pixies in as many days, "let's see what you make of them!" He hadn't quite loved the results of the first time he had unleashed them but after all, he was sure first years would not resort to fire. If he were being honest, he was glad that Potter had stopped them at all, because for a fleeting moment, he had feared that none would be able to stop them.

That fear rose up again as the first year Gryffindors he was teaching were being thoroughly throttled by the pixies and he feared for a moment he would have to intervene and hope for the best. Just as the thought occurred to him however, he suddenly felt a moment of weightlessness and then a great impact that drove all the air from his body, hearing muffled cries of pain from others in the room as well.

It took him several moments to recover and clamber to his feet. The room was in shambles. It appeared as if all of the desks had been thrown, much like the occupants of the room, outwards from its center point and slammed against the wall. Luckily, all of the students seemed to be ok, if a bit shaken up. In the center of the room though, standing with the pixies floating around her completely immobilized as she twirled her wand between her fingers was one Ginny Weasley.

"M-M-Ms. Weasley," Lockhart managed to choke out, "w-what spell did you use to defeat the pixies, my dear?"

Instead of answering, Ginny simply reached out and gently plucked a now helpless pixie from the air around her and examined it before returning a question of her own. "Can I keep him, professor?"

Still speechless and a bit dazed, Lockhart could do nothing but not, thinking that the two years he had thought would be the easiest to manage were turning out to be his biggest problems thus far.


Authors Endnote:

Well, there's the first few days of Hogwarts in the books.

Some filler admittedly, some cannon events, and some events that certainly don't fall into either of the former categories.

Please read and review.

PS: The next chapter will be posted next Sunday, April 12 at approximately 3:00 PM EST.